


we will light up the ice

by shadowsinwinter



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Maybe some light angst, but mostly fluff i sWEAR, figure skating AU, mentions of Stacie and CR and a couple other Bellas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsinwinter/pseuds/shadowsinwinter
Summary: Figure skating AU:Seven years, seven different competitions, and how Beca and Chloe's relationship has grown and evolved in between.





	we will light up the ice

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to say that I wrote this on a whim, but really, I've been thinking about this AU for a long time. Worlds happening in 2 days was what pushed me into actually writing it out.

_Cup of China, 2010 (Beijing, China)_

Chloe meets Beca face-to-face for the first time at the practice rink, nearly running over the tiny sixteen-year-old as she’s lacing up her boots because couched down like that and dressed in all black, the girl blends in neatly against the walls of the rink, and Chloe almost doesn’t see her until it’s almost too late.

“Oi, watch where you’re going,” the girl sighs tiredly – evidently, this is _not_ the first time she’s nearly had someone walk into her today. “Honestly, we all have eyes for – Chloe?”

Chloe grins down at her. “Glad to know that people have eyes for me, hi Beca!”

“Oh my god,” Beca rolls her eyes, though her cheeks are already flushing red, and she scoots over to the side so that Chloe can sit down on the bench beside her. “You know what I meant.”

There’s an easy silence for a moment as Chloe tugs off her running shoes and pulls on her skates, lacing them tight before turning back to Beca, who is still struggling with one impossible knot.

“’Course I did,” she beams widely down at the girl, her face still slightly pink with embarrassment. God, she’s so _small_ and _adorable_ , even her _ears_ are red. Chloe has to fight the urge to squeal and poke her cheeks – somehow, she doesn’t think Beca would take to that kindly. “But you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I – you – what?” The brunette finally looks up, her hands stilling on her skates and her face doing its best impression of a goldfish. Chloe takes pity on her, reaches over and shuts her mouth for her before she can start catching flies.

“Alright, see you on the ice,” and she takes off with a pat to Beca’s shoulder, and has to fight back a snort when she hears Beca pull out her phone, call Aubrey, and exclaim very loudly down the line:

“Aubrey Posen, you never told me that Chloe Beale was _crazy_!”

Chloe doesn’t really know much about Beca – she’s only heard _about_ her when she Skypes Aubrey, and Aubrey’s only told her that her mother had died when she was thirteen and her father had moved her across the country, and that was why she ended up training together with Aubrey at the same rink. Her eyes follow her as she speeds across the ice, so light on her feet that she seems to be _soaring_ through her entire program, and mentally compiles a list of what she knows about the younger girl.

_(i) She knows that Aubrey, despite her initial dislike of Beca, is protective of her now, she’d once confessed to Chloe that Beca’s like the younger sister she never had._

_(ii) She knows that Beca, despite being the youngest competitor here, is going to be one of the best skaters she’s ever had the honour to compete against._

And as though Beca senses her gaze, she turns. Chloe waves, and she shoots Chloe a shy smile, almost tripping over her own skates as she does so.

The redhead’s grin widens.

_(iii) She knows that, whether Beca likes it or not, they are going to be really fast friends._

Chloe tops the podium this competition, with Stacie Conrad from Canada in second place and Beca on third. Her favourite photo consists of her and Stacie on either side of Beca, one hand each pinching one side of the younger skater’s cheek, the other hand holding up their medals, and grinning into the camera while Beca tries to scowl at her.

(Keyword being: try. It’s hard to actually look threatening when your cheeks are being pinched by two people taller than you are.)

_***_

_World Figure Skating Championships, 2011 (Moscow, Russia)_

The next time she sees Beca, they’re in Moscow for the World Championships. She’s ecstatic to see Aubrey again and greets her with a very enthusiastic hug, and when she pulls back, she sees that the blond skater has an arm slung around a very familiar, very _tiny_ figure.

“Beca!” She throws her arms around the younger girl, who lets out a muffled sound of protest and squirms out of her embrace. “It’s great to see you again!”

She hasn’t seen the brunette since they were both in Beijing together – Beca hadn’t qualified for the Grand Prix Final, and then they were both busy with different events; Beca had her US nationals followed by Four Continents, while Chloe flew back home for her own French Nationals and European Championships. It’d been four months since she last met Aubrey, six since she first met Beca, and she’s missed her best friend more than she could say.

And because four months apart equates to having a lot to catch up, neither Chloe nor Aubrey really notice the time passing until Beca makes a great show of checking her watch, and pokes the both of them in the middle of a sentence. Hard.

“You’re gonna make us late,” Beca grouses, slinking towards the hotel lobby. Aubrey rolls her eyes at her friend’s attitude. Chloe grins.

The three of them turn up fifteen minutes late for practice. Her coach merely shakes his head and motions her to run through her program, but Aubrey and Beca both face a stern talking-to from their coach – Aubrey’s father. Towards the end of the lecture, she catches Beca’s eye and gives her a sly wink, smirking as the younger girl’s face immediately turns red as she skates off to begin her own practice.

She’s not really on her A-game today, Chloe muses wearily as she picks herself off the ice after a third fall. She can tell that her coach is getting slightly frustrated by the sloppy, careless mistakes that have been eliminated during training but are suddenly re-emerging, and knows that she should really be paying more attention to herself. Yet she can’t help but watch Beca, especially when the younger skater’s music comes on and she launches into a full run through of her free skate.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing at the boards, just ogling Beca as she skates until she feels Aubrey’s elbow jam against her ribs.

“Stop staring at the kid,” Aubrey snipes, and Chloe feels her face match the shade of her hair.

“I wasn’t –” The look her friend gives her quells any further argument before they can leave her lips, and she shrugs. “Well, yeah, she’s good.”

“She’s _really_ good.”

Chloe takes a long swig of water. “Remember the first time she turned up at your rink, you –”

“I called you in the middle of the night yapping about this ‘tiny alt kid with a bad attitude the size of Mount Everest’?” Aubrey snorts. “’Course I remember.”

“Can’t believe you’re _soft_ for her now,” the redhead teases, but Aubrey doesn’t laugh.

“She was – is – a great kid,” her friend tells her quietly. “Reminded me why I fell in love with skating in the first place. She kept me sane even though my dad isn’t always the nicest coach, y’know?”

They leave the rink together as the end of their practice session is announced, and Beca signals to Aubrey that she’s going to do a couple of quick jumps before leaving. She tries for her triple Axel, takes off, and nearly slides off the edge of the blade but somehow manages to stick the landing anyway. She doesn’t seem discouraged, and sets out around the rink again.

This time, it’s perfect.

Chloe watches, smiling gently as Aubrey stands up to greet Beca once she’s off the ice, their coach having disappeared a while ago. The brunette’s face is flushed with exertion, but she’s grinning wildly, and makes her customary grumble about physical contact before relaxing against Aubrey’s side.

Aubrey becomes the 2011 figure skating world champion. Chloe takes second place above Stacie Conrad this time round. Beca ends up in fourth, _just_ in front Ashley Jones from Great Britain by a virtue of 0.12 points, and the three of them nearly get into trouble for fooling around during gala practice instead of paying attention to the choreography.

***

_NHK Trophy, 2012 (Sendai, Japan)_

Chloe squeals in delight when she sees Beca waiting for the bus at the airport. She’s asked about Beca’s flight details before they both left for Japan, knows that the other girl’s flight was supposed to touch down a good seven hours before hers, and so has resigned herself to only meeting her at the hotel or in the rink. Seeing her here, now, is a pleasant surprise, and Chloe picks up her pace, heading towards their gate, where the shuttle bus to the hotel is scheduled to pick them up.

 The eighteen year old skater is huddled in an oversized jacket – Chloe vaguely recognises it as Aubrey’s – and glaring fiercely through the sliding glass doors out into the sky, as though it’s managed to offend every single one of her ancestors simply by _raining_. The redhead covers the remaining distance between them at a run, the carpeted floor muffling her footsteps enough for her to creep up behind Beca, who’s still blissfully oblivious to her approach.

“Boo,” she whispers into Beca’s ear, and has to fight back a snort when Beca launches herself nearly three feet into the air, before grabbing Chloe’s arm to steady herself.

“Beale, you asshole,” Beca glares at her when she giggles, but there’s no bite in it. The brunette’s navy blue eyes are bright with amusement, and for once, she doesn’t squirm away when Chloe engulfs her in a long hug – Chloe counts it as a personal victory, since she knows that Aubrey is the only other person Beca ever allows to hug her.

The brunette falls asleep in the middle of their bus ride to the hotel. Chloe’s in the middle of a very animated spiel about what happened during the banquet at Skate Canada (Stacie had somehow snuck in enough alcohol to get drunk and start giving lap dances to a half-amused, half-horrified Cynthia-Rose) when she feels a weight fall against her shoulder, and realises that Beca’s leaning into her with her eyes closed. Without the usual tension and excitement that sharpens her features whenever she’s focused on a competition, Beca looks a lot gentler. Softer. More content.

Then their bus pulls to a halt, and Chloe takes a moment to admire how the sunlight dances across her skin, illuminating the delicate features and the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks.

Beca’s _beautiful_ – it’s not like she’s never noticed that the brunette was attractive before, but this is the first time she’s actually gotten the chance to actually _study_ Beca without Beca blushing and looking away.

She has to fight the urge to grab her phone and snap a photo – now _that_ would be decidedly creepy, and friends don’t take photos of their friends when they’re sleeping, right?

Chloe pokes Beca hard, waking her up before she can do something stupid. Beca grumbles slightly, scrunching her nose when she realises that they’ve stopped moving.

_So fucking adorable_.

“We’re here?” She mumbles, stretching out like a cat, exposing a tiny strip of a very toned stomach when her shirt lifts up, and Chloe swallows, and nods.

“Yeap,” the redhead grabs her bags and scrambles off the bus before she can say (or do) anything stupid (like kiss the brunette right there in the bus where all the other skaters can see), leaving a very sleepy and very nonplussed Beca in her wake.

It irritates her more than it should that she can’t seem to get Beca out of her mind, and it doesn’t help that she’s stuck in the same practice and competition group with the younger girl for the entire weekend. Her coach notices her lack of focus, and calls her out on it.

“It’s that Mitchell girl, isn’t it,” he corners her as she’s coming off the ice after their final practice before the competition begins for real, and she shrugs helplessly. He’s coached her since she was seven, and knows her too well for her to be able to lie to him.

“If you’re going to tell me that you want me to forget about her, and think about my skate instead, then you’re wasting your time,” she tells him flatly. “I’ve been trying that all afternoon.”

To her surprise, he shakes his head. “Not forget… Not exactly. Your free skate – you’re skating to –”

“Burlesque, but I don’t see what that has anything to do with Beca.”

“Sell the program,” he waves aside her interruption. “You know this program is choreographed to be _sexy_. So sell it. Skate like Beca’s the only one watching. Skate this program for her, this is how you’re going to win.”

She’s pretty sure that her face must match the colour of her hair by now, but she nods anyway, and he turns out to be right once again. She can see him nodding as she accepts the medal, that smug old geezer, but as Beca pulls her into a celebratory hug, her gold medal clinking against the brunette’s silver, she can’t find it in herself to care.

***

_Grand Prix Final, 2013 (Fukoka, Japan)_

Chloe leans against the boards beside Aubrey, scowling as she watches Beca being accosted by Jesse again. It’s not that she doesn’t like Jesse – they get along well enough when they meet each other at competitions, but as she watches Beca’s lips quirk up in a smirk at something that he’s said, she feels the discomfort burning at the pit of her stomach twist and grow.

So maybe she’s just a _little_ bit jealous of him, okay?

She actually does let out a tiny growl when she watches him reach out to grab Beca by the waist, trying to emulate the ice dancers, and is slightly gratified when Beca skates just out of his reach, ignoring his crestfallen face. Aubrey turns to her, a grin on her face.

“See something you _don’t_ like, Beale?”

“He’s not leaving her alone,” she huffs, knowing how irrational she sounds the moment the words leave her mouth. They’re supposed to be rehearsing for their group program for the gala happening the next day, and the medallists have all been paired up with each other. As the men’s and ladies’ champion, Chloe knows that it’s only natural for Beca and Jesse to be put together, but it doesn’t help to quell the envy that rears its head whenever she watches them dance together throughout practice.

She can’t imagine how Aubrey – who’s been giving death glares to any skater who’d tried to approach Beca since the brunette had joined them in the senior circuit – can remain so calm.

“He doesn’t stand a chance,” the blond reassures her, pushing off to join the rest huddle of skaters gathering in the centre of the ice, leaving Chloe to trail behind her, wondering how she can be so sure.

Her jealousy doesn’t abate as the day goes by – Jesse is _everywhere_ , whenever they stopped to take a breather, he was _there_ , pulling Beca away, and the only time she gets to talk to Beca alone is when they’re in the women’s changing room after gala practice.

“Jesse seems nice, huh,” Chloe begins conversationally, and Beca looks up from where she’s trying to stuff her Team USA jacket into her gym bag. She tugs at the zip once, twice, then gives up, pulling it out to tie it around her waist before replying Chloe.

“He’s funny, I guess,” she raises her left shoulder in a half-shrug, and Chloe’s heart twists. “By the way, he told me to ask you if he’s, uh, offended you or something by accident.”

_Yes_ , her brain shouts.

“No, why?” She lies instead.

“He thinks that you’ve been glaring at him throughout practice.”

_Oops_. She must’ve been a lot less subtle than she thought she was.

“I just want you to be careful, that’s all,” she blurts out, and Beca tilts her head to the side, staring at her quizzically. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Becs.”

“You don’t have to keep trying to look out for me, y’know,” Beca says, holding the door open for her as they leave the changing rooms, walking out of the rink together. Their arms brush against each other, and the redhead has to tell herself that she’s shivering because of the chill in the air, and not because of that momentary contact.

Beca notices. “Cold?”

“Not really,” Chloe shakes her head, but Beca’s already tugging off the jacket tied at her waist and offering it to her, so she wraps it around herself, revelling in the warmth and the scent of Beca’s soap embedded in the soft wool. It’s only a short distance from the rink to where the shuttle bus is waiting for them, and she begins tugging Beca’s jacket off reluctantly before she’s stopped by a slender hand on her wrist.

“Keep it,” Beca gives her a faint smile. “It looks good on you.”

“But-”

“I can always get a new one.”

Chloe stops arguing, and settles back into her seat, looking out of the window as they begin pulling away from the arena. She almost misses the quiet whisper, and has to strain her ears over the roar of the bus engines to hear Beca.

“You don’t have to worry about Jesse because I’m gay.”

_Oh_.

It’s amazing how two words can make her day immediately, and she reaches out, squeezes Beca’s hand gently.

“So am I.”

Chloe hums contentedly as Beca smiles and leans against her, resting her head against shoulder.

Aubrey, monopolising the double seats across the aisle, gives Chloe a knowing smile.

The redhead resolutely ignores her best friend for the entire trip back to their hotel.

***

_Winter Olympic Games, 2014 (Sochi, Russia)_

Chloe plays with the ribbon of the medal as she leans against the walls of the green room, exhausted after a day of competition, then non-stop interviews. The event ended two hours ago, and she thinks that she has to be one of the last people left in the arena.

She pokes at the medal again, watching it glimmer in the light.

Olympic silver.

She’s not upset – not really. The reporters had assumed that she was, and she supposes that after watching her break down right after her free skate, she can’t really fault them.

The door creaks when it’s pushed open, and a head sticks itself into the green room.

“Chlo?”

“Becs,” she smiles tiredly up at the brunette, who looks as exhausted as she feels. Beca slips all the way into the green room, closing the door behind her, and Chloe pats the ground beside her, sighing as Beca curls up into her side.

“I’m not upset, don’t worry,” she sees Beca open her mouth, and reassures the younger girl before she can say anything. “How’s Aubrey doing?”

“She’s already told me three times that she should’ve let you win gold if it meant that she could avoid the press,” Beca snorts quietly at the memory of her friend’s annoyed remark. “You know she hates dealing with the media. How’re _you_ really doing?”

“Tired. I’m actually more relieved than anything that this is all over, I think,” she sees the unasked question in Beca’s dark blue eyes, and continues. “I’ve known for a while that this will be my last Olympics, so after I finished my skate, I just felt so free, you know? I’d done the best I could for France, and they’d been hedging all of their hopes on me for so long that I was _terrified_ of letting them down. But now…”

She mulls over her next thought for a moment. “I’ve broken my personal best record on Olympic ice. I’ve never skated so well in my entire life. Even Alice – who’d represented France at Vancouver, and _hated_ my guts the moment she saw me – never got the kind of results that I did. So, yeah. I’m proud of how I did.”

Beca nudges her, her smile so wide and unguarded and _happy._ “I’m proud of you too, Chloe Beale. You and Bree both.”

And they sit there quietly, leaning against each other until Aubrey walks in, having managed to wriggle her way out of her other press engagements, and finds the two of them curled around each other, dozing off on the floor.

The rest of the Games fly past them, and now that their events are over, the skaters throw progressively wilder parties at night in the Olympic village. The day before the closing ceremony, they’re all sitting cross-legged in Beca and Aubrey’s shared room, passing a bottle of vodka around, avoiding all the under-aged skaters, though Chloe’s pretty certain that she sees Beca sneak a little when Aubrey’s looking the other way.

(She makes sure to keep an eye on the younger skater – not that she’s going to _tattle_ on her, of course, but she doesn’t want her getting inebriated in front of everyone else, either.)

Aubrey gets very sentimental when she’s tipsy.

“I’ll miss you all,” she announces midway through the night. “It’s my last season competing and I’m gonna miss seeing all of you when I retire. It’s been an honour growing up and skating alongside you guys.”

“Hear, hear,” Stacie slurs, raising the bottle before passing it on to CR, sitting beside her. Pieter and Jesse are both properly drunk by now, and stand up to serenade Aubrey very loudly, and very badly off-key.

Chloe winces, and feels Beca wrap a hand around her wrist.

“Wanna get out of here?” Her breath is warm against her ear, and Chloe nods. She pulls the brunette easily to her feet, and they slip out, unnoticed by anyone else.

They can’t actually leave the Village since they’ve left their winter jackets behind and none of them wants to risk frostbite walking outside in just a hoodie and sweatpants, so they wander around the building, nodding at some of the other athletes they’ve come to recognise over the past two weeks. The café is closed, but the seating area is still open, and Chloe pulls Beca into the couch by the window, slinging an arm across her shoulders.

Beca’s eyes are soft as she glances up shyly at the redhead, who surveys the area around them for a moment. Satisfied that they’re pretty much alone – you can’t be too careful in the middle of Russia, after all – she leans down and closes the distance between them. The younger skater’s lips are soft and sweet and fits _perfectly_ against Chloe’s.

And under the soft silvery glow of the moonlight streaming in through the huge glass windows, Beca and Chloe share their first kiss.

***

_World Figure Skating Championships, 2015 (Shanghai, China)_

“Congrats, babe,” Chloe hears Beca murmur as the brunette presses a quick kiss against her cheek. “Gold medal in your last competition before retirement. You did well.”

Chloe squeezes her hand in reply.

“You too,” she touches the bronze medal hanging from the younger woman’s neck, and Beca wrinkles her nose.

“We all know that I made some pretty stupid mistakes out there.”

“Hey,” she cups Beca’s face, stroking the pads of her thumbs across her cheeks comfortingly. “Shit happens during competitions. Sometimes we can’t help it. Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

Her girlfriend – it still gives her a quiet thrill to call Beca that – gives her a quick, tired smile. She’s been jetlagged through the entire competition, her flight from the US into China having been delayed by bad weather, and she’d only landed two days before she was due to compete. Chloe’s heart twists as she studies the dark circles under her eyes, and wraps her arms around Beca.

Beca buries her face against Chloe’s neck and sags against her, and when they pull apart, she’s yawning.

“Come on, you can sleep on the trip back to our hotel,” the redhead whispers, letting Beca lean against her as they stagger out to their shuttle bus together. Thankfully, most of the other competitors have already left by now, leaving only Cynthia-Rose, who raises a brow at Beca, who’s practically comatose by the time Chloe lowers her into a seat.

“Jetlag,” she mouths, not wanting to wake the sleeping woman up, and they spend their entire ride in silence. Beca looks so peaceful curled up against Chloe’s side that she’s loathe to wake her up when they pull up outside their hotel, so she picks Beca up, cradling her to her chest, and gestures to CR.

CR’s face softens in understanding, and Chloe shoots her a grateful smile when her friend grabs their bags for them, following them up to the redhead’s room. It takes a little bit of careful balancing and juggling, but in between the both of them, they manage to wrangle Beca’s limp body into the bed without waking her up.

Aubrey picks up the phone call almost as soon as it connects.

“How’s Beca?”

“Still jetlagged,” she sits down on the bed beside the brunette, tracing a finger down her jawline gently, smiling as the feather-light touch makes Beca wrinkle her nose in her sleep. “I’m sorry you couldn’t make it over, I think she would’ve been less down if you were here.”

Aubrey snorts over the phone, and Chloe can almost see the accompanying eye roll. “You’re doing a good enough job cheering her up as it is, Beale. We can’t help my flight being cancelled. I gotta go, talk to you later, okay?”

Chloe hangs up and crawls under the covers, curling up beside Beca.

“Cuddle,” the younger woman whimpers sleepily, scooting closer towards the redhead, who smiles tenderly. Chloe’s missed her girlfriend dearly over the past half a year they were forced to spend apart, and she reaches out and pulls Beca against her. Beca nuzzles against Chloe’s neck, sighing in contentment before pulling back to look her dead in the eye.

“Chlo?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

It’s the first time she’s actually said these three words to Chloe. Chloe’s eyes flood with tears, and she leans forward, pressing kisses to Beca’s forehead, then to the tip of her nose, then her lips. Her heart aches – she thinks that it’s about to burst from the sheer amount of _love_ and _tenderness_ she feels for the younger woman she’s holding in her arms. She thinks that nothing can beat this feeling of pure contentment, winning all those gold medals never gave her so much _bliss_.

“I love you too, sweetheart. So damn much.”

***

_World Figure Skating Championships, 2016 (Boston, USA)_

“Hello, world champion,” Chloe laughs as she throws her arms around Beca, lifting her into the air, making the younger woman shriek and demand to be set down. She’s immediately given a similar treatment by Aubrey, who then reaches out, taps the gold medal in her hands approvingly.

“Well done, it only took you what, six years to become world champion,” the blond teases, and Beca sticks out her tongue.

“Well, I had to let you have your chance at it first.”

Chloe shakes her head fondly. Her girlfriend is twenty-two going on twelve, and her best friend is really no better. She slings an arm around the brunette, half-listening to the two of them bickering good-naturedly while walking out of the arena – she’s missed them, Beca especially. Returning back to France to complete her university degree had been the younger woman’s idea, though with Aubrey working as a coach in her father’s skating school and Beca still training full time, they haven’t actually met up in almost a year.

“When are you flying home?” Beca asks her later, when they’ve both showered and are binge watching Netflix shows in Beca’s hotel room while waiting for room service to arrive. The brunette is curled against her side, her arms tight around Chloe’s waist, as though she’s never going to let her go, and Chloe laces their fingers together, presses a kiss to her temple.

“Well, about that…” She leans over to grab her phone from the nightstand, and pulls up the email that she received from her university’s office of student admissions last night. It’s been something she’s been dying to show Beca, knowing that the younger woman will be thrilled, but in between the competitions and Beca having to deal with the media and her fans, she hasn’t gotten the opportunity to do so. “I applied to another university to complete my degree and continue on my postgrad there, and I just got the confirmation emails yesterday.”

“Yeah? Which schools?” Beca asks casually, and though her voice is guarded, Chloe can see the glimmer of hope that flickers across her face.

“Columbia, Cornell, NYU and Vassar. They’ve accepted me, so I’m moving to New York for good sometime during the summer. I know that it’s still a five hour journey from school up to Lake Placid, but I can drive up every other week to see you and Bree, and at least we’re finally within the same state, right?”

Beca’s ducked her head in the middle of Chloe’s spiel, and Chloe is suddenly nervous. She hasn’t brought the topic of moving to the States up to her girlfriend _at all_ , wanting it to be a surprise, but despite all of Aubrey’s previous assurances that Beca would love it, she’s now worried that Beca wouldn’t like it, would find her too clingy –

Then her thoughts are cut off by her girlfriend launching herself into her arms, burying her face into the crook of her neck. Chloe can feel her shoulders shaking and hot tears soaking into her t-shirt, and pulls back, alarmed.

“Becs?” She asks softly, hesitantly. “Are you okay with this?”

The younger woman finally meets her eyes, and Chloe is floored by the tenderness in the dark blue depths.

“Yeah,” she breathes, reaching up to press soft kisses to her lips. “Yeah, it’s okay. More than okay, actually. _Fuck_ , Chloe, this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Chloe laughs, then confesses quietly. “I’m doing this for me, too. We’ve been apart for so long, I don’t want to have to spend another second away from you.”

She sighs happily as Beca nuzzles affectionately into her chest. “I love you, Chloe Beale.”

And no matter how many times she hears it, the words never fail to remind her how lucky she is to love Beca, and to be loved by her in return. She runs one hand through the younger woman’s dark brown curls, the other one brushing away the tears of joy still slipping down her face.

“Yeah,” she answers quietly, reverently. “Yeah, I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone got confused: Chloe competes for France, while Beca and Aubrey compete for USA.  
> Feel free to leave any comments!


End file.
